The Sultan's Ascension
by OurLadyoftheUnderground88
Summary: A collection of vignettes of how each vizier and consort come to meet the new Sultan
1. Piyale

I watch the last conversation between father and son with a stoicism that would please my lord. He has asked me to be here and I will not disappoint him in this, his final request. I am one of the younger of my lord's viziers, but I know I have earned his trust. I proved myself that despite my young age, I was able to see the battle plans clearer than even his more seasoned councilors. Especially now, as those older men in his service feasted below toasting to the easy passing of such a great man, I stand here vigil on his wishes to be there for his son as the weight of the crown passes to his young brow.

I've known the prince since he was a boy and I will not fail him. I remember seeing him across the training field wacking at straw puppets so many years ago. We had all smiled on the lad's enthusiasm. As he had grown, he had shown so much progress, taking each challenge and beating it into the dust. He was only a few years younger that I, and yet his birth had destined him for greatness. And although that young, headstrong boy had not followed us out to battle, he had been placed at the table where all decisions were made. My lord was determined to conquer this land...to build an empire that would rival the Great Alexander's. I had proved myself instrumental in his conquests and he had seen my talents and risen me from obscurity. Now he trusted me, more than any other, to guide his son as he followed in his father's footsteps and assumed the mantle of kingship.

I did not listen to my lord's last words to his son-it would be disrespectful to push myself into such a private moment. But as my lord's hand fell from his son's cheek and lay still on the bed, I knew it was over. I watched the boy rise, square his shoulders and take a moment to compose himself before he turned to me a man. He meets my gaze and I see the determination blazing in his eyes.

"My father is dead." he murmers and I immediately sink to one knee. The rest of the servants in the room fell beside me.

"Long live the Sultan!" I cry and the room echos my reverence.

My new lord oversees this show of devotion with the same calm demeanor as his father. As any who was born to rule. And I would be there right beside him as he ascends.


	2. Canfeza

I rub my temples to chase the coming headache away. Heavens above, if they did not cease the ringing of the bells soon, I would go mad. I glance out of the window of the room I have made for myself at the Caravanserai and observe the thrum of activity below. Ever since the Sultan's passing, the city had been overflowing with visiting travelers. And while the incessant tolling bells were a nuisance, the influx of new customers was a silver lining.

I had not known the previous sultan, though my father had held a position as sword master in the palace. I could count on one hand how many times I had been invited into the palace- almost always for grand feasts where half the city would be entertained and fed. But the only time I had seen the royal family was when Piyale, the sweet boy my father had beaten into a soldier, had snuck me past the gates. I could see in his eyes that he had desired me, though truth be told, most men who watched me dance were struck by my beauty. But while most others would leer at my swinging hips and flying hair with lust, Piyale had always just glanced away, blushing furiously. He was a sweet boy who had tried to impress me by sneaking me past the guards to catch a glimpse of those that ruled over us. It had been utterly exhilarating.

As if summoned by my thoughts and memories, I caught sight of a flash of teal in the crowds. Piyale himself, in the Caravanserai? He had not visited in ages and I would certainly not expect him here now. Not when if rumor was to be believed, the new young sultan relied so heavily on his experience and advice.

I hustled away from the window and checked my reflection in the mirror. Sleek black hair, pale milk skin, and bright green eyes as captivating as always met me and I smiled, comforted as always by my beauty.

I had just opened my door, when the man himself turned the corner and caught sight of me. I relished in the widening of his eyes and the slight pink that came to his cheeks. It was always deeply satisfying to see my effect on men. He came right for me and before I could even utter a greeting, he had grabbed my arm and his lips were pressed by my ear.

"Canfeza..." he breathed before steadying himself. "I need you to dance." I painted on a sultry smile, about to tease him playfully before his grip tightened and I noticed the urgency in his face. "The sultan is here. I brought him. He needs to see you. He needs to see you dance," he stutters.

My eyes shoot to his face and gauge his seriousness. "The sultan?" I ask, but already, the weight of his meaning is washing over me. This young boy had just risen to power. And what is it that boys do with their first breath of freedom? Royal boys who had all that added pressure to have as many children as possible? "You mean for me to join his Harem?" I all but whisper and see his determined nod.

I cannot stop the smile coming over my features. To join a Sultan's Harem meant that the struggle was over. I would never have to wonder where my next meal came from. I would be swathed in fine silks and jewels for life. If I managed to birth a son or two, I would hold a place of honor within the palace. Low birth be damned.

I flash a grin at the man who has brought me my pampered future on a silver platter and bat my eyelashes. "Lead the way"


End file.
